


Mixed Up

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 22:23:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18979543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: It’s hard to research when you’re dyslexic so you normally avoid reading, using audiobooks and google to help you out. But when you’re helping on a case with the Winchesters, you realize you’re going to have to come clean...





	Mixed Up

“Y/N!”

Dean’s cheery voice dragged across the parking lot and you grinned widely, waving at him as he approached, Sam by his side like always. The compulsory hug, the hunter’s way of saying ‘ _ yay, you’re alive’ _ , a moment of awkward silence and then -

“So, what are we hunting?” you asked, looking between them.

Sam shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels. “Actually, we could use a hand with some research. It’s not urgent but we’re all hands on deck and -”

“You’re the only hands answering the phone,” Dean finished, laughing nervously.

“Oh,” you blinked, unsure of what they were saying, “research?”

The eldest Winchester pulled a face. “Yeah, I know, it’s boring as hell but, we have beers, movies, everything you need for an all-nighter with the books.” It was sounding worse by the minute. The research wasn’t the problem if you were doing it alone.

Research with them meant books, actual books, not Google reading articles to you or audiobooks read by stuffy old English guys. It meant books with difficult to read transcripts for those who could read without a problem.

But you had a problem. One you hadn’t admitted to them and one that was embarrassing as hell to admit.

Forcing a smile on your face, you nodded, figuring you may as well grin and bear it. You could get through a few books, it might end in a headache, but they wouldn’t notice, right?

“Bunker?” you asked and Dean beamed at your acceptance of their request.

“Bunker. You gonna follow?” Sam raised a questioning eyebrow and you nodded; it would give you time to figure out what you were going to do to prevent them from noticing your disability.

*****

Even if you’d had all the time in the world, there was no way to cover it. For an hour, you’d sat in the bunker library, flicking through books that made little to no sense, the words fuzzy and letters mixing themselves up like they were jumping off the page to deliberately confuse you.

You were getting more frustrated by the minute.

“Everything okay over there?” Dean asked from his spot opposite you, his long legs propped on the table. He was sucking on a lollipop and for a second, your frustration was forgotten in lieu of the way his lips puckered around the sweet treat.

“Yeah,” you lied, not convincingly and Dean moved, dropping his feet to the floor. He got up from his seat, weaving his way around the table to peer at the book you were not reading. “There’s nothing in this one.”

He frowned, pointing to something on the page that mostly seemed like a smudgy blur to your brain. “This is something.”

You swallowed, looking up at him as he pulled the book from where you’d laid it, holding it in his huge hands. “Oh. I guess… I hadn’t got that far.” It felt like your cheeks were on fire, your embarrassment painted clearly on your face. “Is it helpful?”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered, glancing at you, “it’s really helpful. You hadn’t read it?” You shifted in your seat under his concerned gaze. “Y/N? Something wrong?”

“I didn’t see it,” you admitted quietly, leaning your elbow on the table so you could prop your forehead against your palm. “I… I can’t read it properly.” Footsteps signaled Sam’s return from the kitchen with fresh beers and you groaned, covering your eyes with your hand.

“You got a headache?” Dean continued, leaning down a little more, his obliviousness making you despair a little more. “Y/N, you know you can talk to us, right?”

Sam was frowning now, stopping by the table with his fingertips still holding the bottlenecks. “What’s going on?”

“Y/N said she was struggling -”

“That’s not what I said,” you growled, looking up. “I’m dyslexic, okay?” Both brothers went quiet in the face of your admission and you sighed, shaking your head. “I’m sorry. I’m the worst person to help you with all this.”

Sam shook his head, lowering himself into his seat. “Why didn’t you say something?” You held your breath, not looking at either of them, shame making you expect the worst. Dean’s hand laid on your shoulder and you waited for the inevitable scorn. “We’ve got a whole bunch of dictated tapes that need transcribing.”

Your chin jerked up to see Sam smiling at you. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would we be mad?” Dean scoffed, sitting back down. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask for it.”

“But I didn’t say anything -”

“And we know why,” Sam said gently. “You’re embarrassed. But it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He grinned, taking the book you had been reading from Dean. “And we wouldn’t have found this without you.”

“You would have,” you insisted, “eventually.”

“Yeah, right when we didn’t need it anymore,” Dean chuckled, taking his beer from Sam and downing a third in one shot. “Best research buddy ever.” He lifted his bottle in a toast and you smiled, relaxing at last.

*****

The research wasn’t a short job so the boys offered you one of their guest rooms for the night. You’d stayed before and took up in your usual room, just across the hall from Dean’s. It was near three in the morning when you were getting ready for bed; Dean’s knock wasn’t expected.

“Hey,” he greeted, leaning in the doorway, “how’s it going, kiddo?”

“Full day of staring at books I can’t read,” you drawled, smirking at him, standing straight with your arms across your chest. You usually slept naked but being as it wasn’t your “house”, you’d opted for a simple vest and shorts combo. The bunker tended to be a little on the humid side. “But the pictures were pretty.”

Dean chuckled at that, glancing over his shoulder as if he were afraid of getting caught. “Listen, I know you were embarrassed earlier,” he started, taking a step into your room, shoving his hands in his pockets, “but you don’t have to be.”

“I know,” you replied, smirk turning into a smile. “I get the feeling you’re not here to reassure my fragile fragile ego.”

He snorted, shrugging his shoulders a little. “No.”

“How can I help you, Dean?”

There was a moment where his eyes met yours and despite your dyslexic setback, you didn’t need an audiotape to tell you what was going on in his head. “Last time I saw you, you dropped a kiss on me and ran.”

“It was a peck. On the cheek. And I did the same to Sam.”

His disbelief was clear and your lie was shoddy anyhow. You giggled, looking toward the door - Dean reached out with one hand and closed it. “I didn’t see you grabbing his ass as you went.” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Unless…”

“I didn’t grab Sam’s ass,” you informed him, rolling your eyes. “Did you spend the last month wondering if I had?”

Dean’s shrug was telling of his jealousy and you decided now would probably be the best time to put him out of his misery. Stepping toward him, you reached out and snagged his flannel with one finger; he moved automatically, closing the space between you.

“Jealous is a good shade of green on you, Dean Winchester,” you mumbled and he growled, kissing you hard enough to make you stumble backward. Before you could fall, his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a deeper embrace.

“You’d be a better one,” he muttered, palming your ass through your shorts, “on me.”

You gasped in surprise as he hoisted you up, carrying you toward the bed, still indulging in slow kisses that made his gait unsteady. Gripping his shoulders, you wiggled out of his embrace, pushing him back until his calves hit the bed frame.

Removing your vest got his attention and Dean smirked, dragging the pad of his thumb along his bottom lip. “You want this?” you asked and he hummed with a nod. “Take off your pants.”

His eyebrows shot up at the command and he didn’t hesitate, pushing his pants down and kicking off his shoes enthusiastically. Standing straight, he put his hands on his hips, waiting for further instruction.

You looked down at your own mostly naked body, only your panties covering you. Dean realized the meaning of your actions, quickly shedding his shirt until he was stood in his boxers and socks.

“Those too,” you jerked your head at him, a sly smile stretching your lips.

The boxers disappeared and you couldn’t help the look on your face as his half-hard cock was revealed. Dean’s mouth curved into a grin and he pointed at you. “Your turn,” he jibed and you giggled, stalking toward him. Before you even reached him, he was stretching his hands out to pull you closer, dragging you into another heated kiss.

“Is this too fast?” you murmured against his lips and he broke away, still grinning.

“No such thing,” Dean growled, his fingers curling into the elastic of your panties.

“Good.” Pushing his shoulders, you dislodged him and he landed on his ass, his mission to remove your underwear aborted. You peeled them down, tossing them away as you moved to straddle his lap. Dean surrendered to your touch, kissing back as you ground yourself down against his hard-on.

“You know,” he whispered, one hand snaking through your hair as the other pressed between your bodies, “I was really glad you answered the phone.” His fingers found your pussy already wet and you gasped as you lifted yourself to allow him access.

“You are?”

“Uh-huh.”

He stopped talking, watching your face as he slid a finger inside you, making you whine needily. When your channel clenched around him, he added a second, thrusting gently.

“God, you’re amazing,” Dean praised, pulling you in for another round of kissing, his digits slowly moving inside you, making you gasp into his mouth. “Wanna feel you cum…”

You nodded listlessly, pressing your forehead against his as you rolled your hips, fucking yourself down onto his hand. Dean grunted when you squeezed his fingers, his thumb finding your clit even in the awkward position.

“Want you inside me,” you whimpered, one hand on his shoulder, the other cradling his face. “Wanna cum on your cock, Dean.”

His quiet ‘ _ ah,fuck’ _ was lost against your mouth and Dean dragged his hand free, letting you take control. Your slender fingers wrapped around his dick, guiding him into you. Inch by inch, he filled you, both of you silent as you connected intimately.

When your ass was flush with his thighs, you stopped, holding still on his lap. Dean wrapped his arms around you, kissing you hungrily, his cock twitching inside you.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he mumbled, dropping his mouth to your breasts, sucking one hard nipple between his plump lips.

“You already said that,” you giggled, the happy sound dissolving into a pornographic moan as he switched nipples, using his teeth this time.

“‘Cos it’s true,” Dean retorted.

Your climax was still buzzing under the surface of your skin and the second you moved, lifting up to drop back down, you could feel it ready to burst. The churning pleasure in your belly was only heightened by Dean’s mouth worshiping your tits and you mewled, letting your head fall back as you rode him.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, his hands cupping your ass to assist your movements, “cum for me, Y/N.”

The sound you made was reminiscent of dodgy clips on PornHub, but Dean seemed to appreciate it, taking over as your limbs shook and shuddered through your orgasm. Your thighs quivered with the impact of your bodies coming together; your balance on his lap was in jeopardy and he knew it.

With one sweeping move, Dean had you on the bed, on your back, his cock still buried between your folds. You cried out, the changed angle deeper and slightly more brutal than it had been, prolonging your climax as Dean pounded into you.

He was sweating and panting, apparently unsure what to do with his mouth as he licked and sucked at any patch of skin he could get at. It was erratic yet highly pleasurable, his greed for you and you gripped his head between your hands, tugging on the short hairs to pull him into a kiss.

Dean came with a snarl, muffled by your tongue, his pace faltering as he spurted thick ropes of cum inside you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes falling shut and you smiled, stretching your arms above your head. “Fuck. No condom.”

You laughed at his post-coital realization. “You’re covered, buddy. I’m on the pill.”

A relieved sigh left his lips and he withdrew, collapsing on the bed, his long legs awkwardly hanging off of the edge. “So, you’re sticking around for a few days?” he asked, pulling you into his side. “I like having you around.”

“Yeah,” you smirked, leaning up to kiss him, “I’m definitely starting to like research.”


End file.
